Page 2 of Fireline
Eric grabbed the handles and twisted. The door hinged back toward the tail of the plane. Cold air and the scent of woodsmoke rushed in.
Nova stood at the jump doors, face hidden behind the wire-mesh guard on her helmet. “Fire’s about twenty-five miles northeast of Snowhaven. Wind conditions aren’t much better than yesterday, and the head is pushing southwest toward an area with a few homesteads.”
“They’ve called for evacuations,” Logan said. “But we know not everyone takes it seriously.”
“Yeah, there’s always one who thinks they can ride it out,” Finn said.
“Buddy check,” Nova said, pulling on her fire gloves. “Booth’s with me first stick. Logan and Vince, second stick. JoJo and Finn, third.”
Booth went to the door and performed his four-point check.
Nova stuck her head out of the plane beside Eric. Booth watched over Nova’s shoulder as Eric dropped the first set of drift streamers. They watched them fall. The long pieces of weighted crepe paper fell toward the ground, catching on currents.
Booth did some quick mental calculations and determined wind drift and descent time. “Looks good?”
Eric nodded his agreement. “Aria, take us to three thousand!”
Aria’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’re at three thousand.”
“All right. Looks like about a hundred fifty yards of drift. The wind is strongest down low. Stay wide of the fire.” Eric’s head swung out the opening, then he turned back. “Get in the door!”
Booth backed up to give Nova room. She sat on the floor and braced herself. Her feet dangled out into the slipstream, ready to jump into the vast canvas of the sky. He dropped into position and moved in tight behind her. The hum of the plane vibrated under his legs. Nova leaned back. Pressed herself into his chest.
The familiar tingle of raw energy electrified his muscles. Nerves firing. Blood pumping. Countless jumps and he couldn’t shake the mix of fear and exhilaration seconds before the free fall. He took a deep breath. The crisp air filled his lungs. This was it. The moment before the plunge.
Eric’s slap came down on Nova’s shoulder, and she propelled herself forward out into the wind.
Booth rocked forward as hard as he could to miss the edge of the door but bumped it on the way out. He tumbled under the tail of the plane in a slow spin and turned his belly to the ground.
The rush of wind, the weightlessness, and the deafening roar of the air enveloped him. In that moment, all fear and doubt were left behind. His past mistakes were replaced by the freedom of flight. He had nothing but the sky and the guilt of surviving when others hadn’t.
He counted in his head and kept his eyes on the horizon. “Jump thousand…look thousand…reach thousand…wait thousand…”
Once stable, he pulled the rip cord. “Pull thousand!”
A hard jerk pulled at his chest straps. The parachute riffled open high above the burning landscape. For a moment there was nothing but Booth, the wind in his ears, and the land below. Nothing but him and the God who had spoken all this into being. The wildfire ravaged the divine canvas, but underneath it all, there was a promise of renewal and rebirth.
This was the part he loved. He’d come to Ember looking for a place to lay low, but jumping had gotten into his blood. But did he love it enough if the time came for him to choose between this life and the dead one?
He grabbed the steering toggles and turned to face the hundreds of miles of wilderness. Smoke rose high overhead, gathering in storm clouds. Violent flames whipped back and forth between the trees.
Nova was right. This thing had the potential to go big. The other crews needed all the help they could get. They needed him.
Booth descended through open sky. The only audible sounds were the distant hum of the jump ship and the gentle flutter of his parachute as he glided twenty-five hundred feet above the earth.
“Oooooh-weeeee!” Nova yelled.
Booth grinned and let out his own whooping shout.
Between his feet, wind whipped Nova’s chute to the west. She swept over a dense stand of towering Douglas firs. He caught the same wind gust and steered hard, but the wind pulled him toward the same trees.
Facing into the wind, he tried to locate the jump spot through the thick smoke.
The chute rocked back and forth. Booth’s gut tightened.
He pulled down on the left toggle and moved closer to the wind line. The strong smell of smoke filled the air and stung his nostrils.
Two hundred feet to go and he could barely see the ground through the dense ash cloud. “I can’t see the spot!”